


New Growth

by FuxedoMask



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Spoilers, no beta reader we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26776492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuxedoMask/pseuds/FuxedoMask
Summary: Yasha thinks on how her journey has changed her physical appearance both positively and negatively, then asks Caleb's help in emphasizing the positivity.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 55





	New Growth

**Author's Note:**

> After watching the most recent Talks I thought to myself "what if Yasha got a buzzcut for symbolic reasons" and then I wrote this.

After Caduceus had pointed it out, Yasha looked at her hair whenever her reflection was available. The new growth made her smile, the white shining to her like a light in the darkness. It had been years since the roots had turned to pitch, and since then she hadn’t cut it at all. The ends were dead and frayed, dry and rough, but they were white, they were right, they were hers, and they belonged to when she had been happy. She had refused to let that go.

  
But now…

She was happy now, too. Not in the same way, of course, nothing would ever replace her time with Zuala, but… The people Yasha had found after losing her love, the people who were the last gift Mollymauk had given her, made her so happy. They had seen what horrors she had brought—willingly or no, she had still done those things— and they had fought _for_ her rather than against her. They kept her with them, they let her fight for them, to protect them; and they protected her too. With all they had done for her in such a short time, and everything she had been able to learn about herself while traveling with them, it seemed that her hair displaying her life changing again would only be right. She didn’t have to shy away from her reflection anymore, she wouldn’t see a stranger. Yasha smiled when she saw herself for the first time in years.

Caleb built them a tower. He conjured them an oasis where they could go, just them, and exist peacefully without danger’s claws waiting to strike at any moment. He gifted them their own rooms, little spaces crafted perfectly for them. With the magic shimmer on his replica of Jester’s mural from the Xhorhaus, Yasha felt as if she had never seen so many flowers, even if they weren’t real. It made her heart so full it threatened to burst from her chest. Looking at him, excitement almost covering his raw nerves and desperation for them to understand how much they meant to him, all she could do was thank him, say it was beautiful. It wasn’t near enough to tell him how she really felt, but if anyone would understand every emotion she didn’t yet know how to express, she hoped it would be him. He knew what shutting down was like. He knew what it was to quietly love so much that language could not be bent to its depiction. He smiled so brightly when she thanked him that it was almost as though he had never known suffering.

The second time he summoned the tower for them, one of her walls had been made into a mirror. She was touched; she hadn't even noticed he had seen her smiling at herself. She sat cross-legged in front of it for hours, gazing at the soft halo of new hair growing from her head. She summoned her wings, feathers bright and healthy. She wanted always to feel this way: to feel as seen as she did with this group, to feel as loved and protected as she did with them. She belonged here. Even with Zuala, though she had loved her with all she had, they’d had to hide. She didn’t have to hide anymore.

Yasha sought Caleb out as the Mighty Nein were separating for bed, a gentle hand on his shoulder and relief he did not flinch at her touch.

“Caleb,” she started, voice much shyer than she felt as he turned to her, “could you come help me with something please?”

“Oh, ja, of course.” His eyes were wide with curiosity as they often were, and it seemed to her they were bluer than when they had met. “What is it?”

“Come to my room, I want it to be a surprise.”

He nodded and went with her, striding alongside her rather than following behind as he would have done months ago. He was making progress too, even if he didn’t feel like it yet. She wanted him to know how wonderful he was, how much happiness he deserved, as he had done for her. But her words had never gotten her point across well, so she just hoped her company could help.  
She let him into her room and went to the table where she had laid supplies out before joining her family for dinner. Caleb approached, brow furrowed as he looked over what she had provided.

“What is this for?” He asked, plucking the straight razor off the table. “I don’t have a beard anymore, this seems a bit late.”

She laughed, “no, it’s not for you. It’s… for me.”

He looked at her, frowning at her chin, and much to her amusement, he glanced lower for a fraction of a second before wrenching his eyes back to her face.

“I was hoping you could… Well, I mean… I’d like it if you--” she paused and took a breath before starting again. “Will you cut my hair?”

Caleb blinked rapidly as he breathed “oh uh” as he always did when he was taken aback. “Ja, I can if you are sure. Though Jester might be a better choice, or Beauregard.”

“I’d like it to be you.”

“It might come out a bit uneven.”

“Then I’ll wear it uneven.”  
There was a beat, then she said, “or maybe then I’ll get one of them to fix it.”

He smiled, the one that was closest to laughing. He took a deep breath before sighing, “well okay, how short do you want to go?”

Yasha turned to the mirror, taking herself in. She hummed, beginning to unbraid her hair as she thought over what she wanted. She knew how short she wanted, the only question was how she wanted him to get there. Should the colors be cut separately, or...?   
“All of it. Just. All of it gone.” She told him at length. “Down to the white that’s growing in.”

  
Though she didn’t look at him, she could imagine the expression he was making. He’d be surprised, and any minute now he’d—

“Wow, that is quite a lot. Are you sure you want to go so short?” He was getting a little more predictable in small moments.

“This is the color it’s supposed to be. It changed when I… when my life changed.” She met his eyes in their reflections. “Now it’s right again. I got a fresh start with all of you, so… I’d like to see that,” she gestured vaguely with her hand as though words would fall from the air into her palm. “I’d like to give my hair a fresh start too, I guess.”

It wasn’t enough, her words never were. But he looked serious as he nodded again so she figured he understood.

“Then one last question: do you want to be facing the mirror or looking away?”

Hm. She hadn’t considered that. Should she look away and let herself be surprised by the new look, or watch him hacking away at the mess she’d let get out of control?

“I’d like to watch, please.”

“Okay, well—” he went over and dragged a chair from her table over to the mirror so she could sit, “have a seat and we will get started.”

She did as he bid and let him drape a cloth around her shoulders to protect her from the falling hair. He exchanged the razor he had been fiddling with during their conversation for a pair of shears and a comb. He took a section of her hair and looked over her head to her reflection, asking wordlessly one last time if she was certain. Another deep breath to ease her rapid heart, and she nodded.

The sound of the shears echoed into the silence they shared.

She watched the black and white hair fall from his hands and hit the floor. No going back now. But that was the point, wasn’t it? They were doing this because of the present her past had brought her to, and for the future she would stride into with The Mighty Nein.

Piece by piece, her hair fell away under Caleb’s careful hands. The weight lifted with each cut was more than just hair, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She let them fall with her hair, grateful Caleb made no comment. He cut away the tangled mess of her past so gently she could not have wished for anyone else to be here with her. When the length was mostly gone, he went shorter incrementally so he wouldn’t take too much. He used an intense focus she had only seen him use when he was casting and cut so precisely she could have laughed that he was ever worried it would be uneven.

When he had finished, she looked like another person. She ran her hand over what was left reveling in the prickly feeling of hair so short. She’d never had so little of it before. She twisted in the chair, grabbing Caleb’s hand as he tried to begin cleaning up.

“Thank you, Caleb,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome, Yasha.” He pointed to her head with his chin, smiling, “it looks good on you.”

She laughed shortly, wiping her eyes again as she turned back to the mirror. “You did a good job.”

They swept her hair up together, bundling it as well as they could so they could deal with it after they left the tower for the next day, the next adventure. Before he left, she pulled him to her and hugged him. She couldn’t express herself verbally, but physically she could show what she meant. He stiffened at first, like he always did, but after a moment, he relaxed. Another moment, and his arms wrapped around her waist. She could have cried again. She held him tightly for several minutes, long after she knew she ought to let go. But he never made to pull away or asked her to let him go and just then she loved him so, so much. Beau had told him he was her best friend after he'd shown her the room he'd made for her. Yasha felt she could understand that sentiment. Finally, she released him, smiling a little sheepishly as she rubbed at her arm.

“Thanks,” she said again. He smiled, nodding, and put his hand on the doorknob to leave. He hesitated, then turned back to her.

“We are all glad to know you, Yasha,” he breathed. “I am glad you are with us.”

“Me too. You’re all really wonderful.”

They smiled at each other another moment, then he said good night and left for his own room.

Tomorrow, she would wake up in the tower magically made to keep her safe with her new family. Tomorrow, they would all be having breakfast together, served to them by darling little fey cats that Fjord insisted he was allergic to. Tomorrow, they would all see her practically shaved head and Yasha was sure there would be an uproar; her friends were rambunctious and they wouldn’t let such a change go unheralded. Tomorrow, she would be with the people that meant more to her than anything. And the day after that, and the day after that, for as long as she had any say in the matter: she would be with them.


End file.
